


Three Little Words

by hellcsweetie



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24562711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellcsweetie/pseuds/hellcsweetie
Summary: Harvey struggles to tell Donna he loves her.
Relationships: Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Three Little Words

**Author's Note:**

> Because I absolutely refuse to accept that that lame-ass cough in 9x07 is the first time he actually says it.

Harvey’s been thinking about this for days now.

He knows she knows. He knows it’s completely evident in his eyes and his stance and the way his fingers touch her differently from how they touch everything else.

She’s told him he doesn’t need to say it, even after she started saying it explicitly. Again, he knows she knows. 

But “love about you” is not enough. He doesn’t just "love things about her". He loves _her_. And it’s ridiculous to him that he can’t say it out loud like a normal person. It annoys him - pisses him off sometimes, even. She deserves better, he _wants_ to do better. He’s said it before, for God’s sake. 

(It totally backfired, though. Is that why he’s so scared to say it? Maybe. Although he knows the situation is completely different now and he definitely wouldn’t leave after saying it, so maybe that’s not it.)

She puts up this air of nonchalance about it but he knows she’d like to actually hear it out loud and not just read his mind for it. He needs to come up with a plan.

He starts with something simple. Whenever they have a nice moment or she looks particularly beautiful, he tries saying it in his head. "I love you". It's weird at first, thinking something _at her_. He does it with such concentration and effort it almost feels like he's trying to send her a telepathic message.

Sometimes it even seems like she hears it, from the way she gives him a look.

After a few days it becomes easy enough, so he moves on to phase 2: he starts whispering it when she's out of earshot. If she's in the shower or getting dressed while he's making coffee, he'll whisper it, very very low, barely a breath.

The words taste awkward on his lips. He's not used to actually saying it. He loves a million things, from the sun beating down his back when he runs on Sunday, to a good beer at a baseball game, to Donna's legs. But he never utters the words out loud to other people. 

The one exception so far has been Marcus. His father was always very vocal about his feelings and practically forced the boys to say it to each other and to him and Lily every day. It became more of a tradition than actual feeling, though obviously he does love his brother dearly, no matter how much he pisses him off sometimes.

He's getting closer to it with his mom too, which is great.

When he said it to Donna it wasn't as hard, but maybe that was because it had been so easy to run away from actually facing the feeling. He doesn't know why he's so terrified by it; he knows she loves him and that saying it back carries virtually no risk, only reward.

Still, whispering it is weird.

It gives him a bit of cold feet because how is he supposed to say it if he can't even whisper it?

He stares at himself in the mirror and tells his face to get his shit together. He's a grown-ass man. He loves this woman. She already _knows_ he loves her. Just say it, dammit.

They're going out for dinner tomorrow at a French bistro she likes and he thinks, Okay, that seems like a good opportunity. It's nice, it's romantic, he's been whispering "I love you" at her from a distance for almost two weeks now. This can work.

On Thursday he spends the whole day on edge. He's jittery and nervous, jumpy even. She doesn't seem to notice because they don't cross paths at work a lot that afternoon. She leaves a little earlier than him because he needs to finish a motion to vacate and she wants to freshen up before their date.

He goes down the elevator trying to shake out his nerves. He's made all the necessary arrangements, the night should be certifiably perfect. He talks about literally every topic he can come up with with Ray, going from jazz to the Yankees to his daughter's graduation. They reach his apartment way too quickly for his taste.

On his way up he takes a few deep breaths. Donna should be ready to leave. Ray's waiting downstairs; they should be at the restaurant in about twenty minutes, he's planning on saying it after the entrées, so that gives him about one more hour to prepare. It's fine, he can do this.

He unlocks his door and walks inside.

Donna is standing by the sink, looking totally poised and perfect as she washes a glass of wine. She's wearing the same dress she wore to work, that burgundy lace one he loves that always brings out her hair. She must have heard him come in but she doesn't acknowledge him yet. He goes through his plan again in his head: he'll greet her, wash his hands and reapply his cologne as she finishes up and they can go.

And then

"I love you."

It takes her a second, but then she closes the tap and sets the glass down and looks at him with a humored little smile and a laughing tone. "What?"

"Shit," he deflates. Weeks of freaking out about this, days planning the perfect setting and he blurts it out while she's doing the freaking dishes, standing dumbly by his door like a goddamn idiot.

Donna lifts an amused brow. "Harvey?"

He exhales. "It wasn't supposed to come out like this."

"Supposed?"

Now she's teasing him, adding to the humiliation he feels burning on his cheeks.

"I had this whole setup. I even called Chez to get them to chill your favorite wine ahead of time," he purses his lips and resists the urge to shake his head at himself. He is well aware this is completely silly but he can't get over how anticlimatic this whole thing was. She deserved a better "I love you", over candlelight and good wine, not a half-mumbled mess.

She nods, looking impressed, though her grin is still in place. She then looks back down to the glass, drying it with a towel and setting it back in the cabinet. She dries off some last droplets from the back of her hands then turns to him, taking a few steps in his direction. Her silence makes him nervous; it wouldn't be very much like her to get upset by this but maybe telling her about his original plans was a bad move because now she knows what could have happened and how it would have been so much better than this and maybe he screwed up more than he thought-

"Why did you say it now?" she asks in her studied Donna tone, leaning against the kitchen island close to him.

"I don't know. I wasn't planning to. It slipped, I guess," he shrugs a defeated shoulder and avoids her gaze.

She's chewing on her cheek and he just knows she's trying not to laugh at him. He knows it makes no sense and it's ridiculous and he should grow the hell up. He's about to sigh and go get ready when she crosses the remaining distance between them and straightens his lapels.

"This is how I want you to love me, Harvey," she says tenderly, her lips curled up sweetly.

"What?" he frowns, dumbfounded, as he trains his eyes back on hers.

"I want you to love me easily. After a long day at work, when I'm doing the dishes or we're shopping for groceries. I want it to slip out, just like this," Donna explains, running her palms affectionately up and down his chest. "I know dinner will be perfect because I know how much thought you put into it. But _this_ is what I want."

Her gaze is soft and her smile is wider, like she just told him a secret. He can't believe how much he loves her right now. He loves her more than anything he's ever loved before, more than all the things he loves combined. He loves her so much he wants to say it again, this time shouting it from his balcony.

He leans in and captures her lips in his because it's all he can do. She snickers against his mouth and his hands snake around her waist as her arms circle his neck and he kisses her deeply.

He loves her. He loves her.

"For the record, you can still say it at the restaurant," she murmurs cheekily once they part and he rolls his eyes at her ribbing.

"Hm, I don't know, kinda feels like I missed the mark now," he tips his head as she slides away to get her purse.

"Oh, do _not_ think I'm gonna let you use this as a cop-out for not saying it anymore," Donna chuckles and points her index at him, disappearing into his bedroom. He follows her, reviewing the plans for the night to find a good moment to spring it on her again.

.

It becomes sort of an inside joke. He still doesn't say it much, but when he does he tries to hide it between unrelated sentences or behind a cough. She always laughs at him, calls him an idiot sometimes, but he knows she loves it.

He says it once or twice in more traditional moments, too. He says it when he asks her to marry him. He says it every now and then, infrequently enough that it still makes his stomach flutter. He feels it every single second of his life.


End file.
